


prepping for landing and coming in fresh

by ramathorne



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Kissing, M/M, Minor cursing, Sam Wilson is So Done, it's not explicit but it's significant, scott being mind-numbingly awkward, wow im glad that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramathorne/pseuds/ramathorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam learns that Scott is really, really bad at timing. And talking. And most other things, actually.</p><p>He also reaffirms the fact that Clint is a huge douchebag, but that's nothing new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	prepping for landing and coming in fresh

**Author's Note:**

> rare-pair saturday. that's a holiday, isn't it?
> 
> in advance: i have a lot of feelings about scott lang _and_ i'm filthy, disgusting shipper trash. i apologize deeply for making this exist but it was either bringing this to life or NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN.  
>  **just to clarify again: this fic contains hints of major spoilers for Captain America: Civil War.**  
>  if you don't want to know some key shit that happens in the end of the movie you can't say i didn't warn you ok

"Sooo… let's say I kissed this girl," Scott begins, and Sam immediately shakes his head.

"Nuh-uh," he says. "No. Stopping you right there." Because if there's one rule that Sam's still 100% positive about in this alien-invaded, secret mastermind corp riddled, robot overthrowing world, it's that when a mouthy white guy begins _any_ sentence-- question, statement, or otherwise-- with the words _'let's say'_ or _'hypothetically'_ , it's never going to be a good thing. Prefacing either (or both) with the classic, drawn out, ' _sooo….'_ doubles the not-being-a-good-thing.

Exponentially.

Unlike other mouthy white guys who talk like they're half their actual age _(Tony)_ , however, when Sam shuts him down Scott just goes, "Oh-- 'kay," and huddles in on himself a little more. Not because he's self-conscious, or anything-- it's just that there really is not a lot of room in the back of the low profile jet Steve and T'Challa brought back to help sneak them out. Which, probably a _slight_ oversight on their part, sort of, but if he had to guess, he's not sure the Wakandan nation would be cool with the Black Panther freeing the people actively rebelling against the act that pretty much killed their former king.

Kind of a shitty, sad thing to think, but it is what it is.

Anyway, they're exhausted, even five hours later. Sam _could_ be sitting nearer to the front, all nice and propped up for a good power nap-- but Clint and Wanda are taking up those seats. And Sam could fight for the spot, really-- he can usually deal with not taking shit from other people, but that's because most other people aren't as creepy as Clint can get when he wants his way. Which is, as of right now, to sit next to Wanda and craftily pretend to snooze while monitoring all of her vitals in the unnerving way that assassins tend to do.

Which meant, of course, Sam sitting with Scott.

Scott, who's sitting in the back of the goddamn jet huddled amongst the cargo-- fidgeting every thirty seconds and digging his elbow into Sam's side every time he does.

The worst part is Sam even knows that Scott's not doing it to mess with him. Scott is-- for lack of a better word-- _antsy_ when he's awake. And he seems like a quiet guy, but the more time Sam spends with him, the more he learns that it's not by choice.

Scott _likes_ to talk, is the thing. Talking, however, does not seem to come naturally to him, as evidenced by their most recent interaction. Actually, if he's being honest, _any_ of Scott's interactions with any human being, enhanced or otherwise-- could be used as sufficient evidence.

The point is, shutting Scott up meant he had to be unnaturally quiet. And when he's unnaturally quiet, he tends to move around, like he's trying to make up for it.

So when Sam so much as  _senses_  the other about to shift next to him again, he grabs him around the bicep to keep that pointy elbow coming anywhere near his ribs for the fourth time in ten minutes.

"God-- _fine_ ," he relents. Because if Scott talks, he doesn't fidget, and if he doesn't fidget, Sam doesn't get that low-key look of Intense Disappointment from the Cap he knows he'll get for (gently) knocking out one of their only allies (an ally _he_ called down, no less), no matter if it's an attempt to save his own sanity. "You kissed a girl. And?"

He has to wait a second for Scott to remember what they were talking about, though. There's this agonizing moment where the guy looks so startled that Sam's acknowledging him that he just sits there, blinking owlishly. Then his brain catches up.

"Oh," he replies, grin sliding across his face. "Oh yeah! Almost forgot."

Sam squints at him in an attempt to figure out if Scott's dopey act is for real. Seriously, a spacey dude like Scott doesn't just up and hold his own with some of the world's most powerful defenders, there has to be _something_ rattling around in that half-calorie head of his.

"So I kiss this girl," Scott continues, "But the thing is I kiss her, uh, not too long after I hand some tech-stealing douchebag his own ass. Which was-- it was _all_ kinds of crazy, dude. There were explosions, and bug-zappers, and he kind of wrecked the _shit_ out of my ex-wife's house…"

"Okay," Sam says, slowly.

"Anyway, that guy? Total dick. But I'm awesome, so I kicked his butt out of this _dimension_ , literally, and it felt so _good_ , even if I almost got lost in the same weird, freakish place I dropped him in. And this chick, right, she's cool, and suave, and if I weren't helping her and her dad out she probably wouldn't even give me the time of _day_ , so I just-- she did something nice for me after all that and I… don't really have a good track record with. Uh. _Timing,_ " Scott emphasizes, at the end.

Which is kind of an understatement, from what Sam knows. Thankfully, Scott does not notice his derisive snort.

"So I kissed her. And the kiss was _awesome_ , she kissed back, and everything-- but then her dad opened the door on it, so. Not quite so much at the end."

"Bummer," Sam replies. Even though he's teasing him, he's actually kind of sympathetic. He knows that feeling pretty well, even if the last time that probably happened to him was in _high school,_ at the latest.

"I know, dude!" Scott says. "But you know, when we were stuck in that lame submarine, I got to thinking-- was kissing her only awesome because I'd _just_ done something awesome? Don't get me wrong, she's-- she's incredible. Way better at fighting than I am, but way less expendable, you feel me? Like, if she had this suit, she could probably have beaten you up in _half_ the time I did it--"

"Um," Sam interjects, but Scott bulldozes right on over him.

"And she's _hot_. Awesome and _hot_ ," he says.

A beat passes.

"Really, really hot," he clarifies, needlessly. "Really, really _really_ \--"

"I get it," Sam says.

Scott grins that lopsided, sheepish grin. "Anyway, I'm lying there, on that shitty cot in that shitty submarine, and I'm thinking, didn't my last marriage not go so well because of something like this? Not exactly the same, duh, but. My ex-- she's awesome, too. Awesome, hot-- but she only really got with me because of an awesome thing we experienced _together_ , you know? Not because she was someone I thought would be awesome _with_ me. She was kind of like… like a reminder." Scott pauses again. "Does that make sense?"

Sam wants to say no because of his silent objection to the word 'awesome' being used way too many times. He begrudgingly nods, instead, because he's not five years old anymore.

The other relaxes visibly. "Good," he breathes, sounding relieved. "Good-- that's-- that's good."

"So, what--" Sam asks, since he's kind of invested now, "You're worried that it's gonna be the same with this new chick, right?"

Scott bobs his head up and down, his pleased smile fading. "Yeah, that's. Yeah," he says. There's an awkward moment of silence where he clears his throat. "So," he starts. "I figured, you know. You're..." and stops. Gestures vaguely to all of Sam.

Sam gives him a look.

"You're three for two?" Scott tries. "I was... yeah."

"No idea what you're tryin' to say, man."  _But maybe stop saying 'yeah'._

"Okay." Scott mumbles, resigned. "So,  _so_  bad at timing. I'm just gonna."

And then he leans over and _kisses Sam on the mouth_.

Scott's sluggish brain reflexes must be a contagious thing, because despite the obvious invasion of his personal space, all Sam really does in reaction to being _kissed_ is make this 'HGPH' noise and tighten his grip on the other man's sleeve. Scott, in return, hums back distractedly and presses Sam into the rattling wall of _stuff_ behind them, slides against his chest and angles a soft, cautious peck at the corner of Sam's mouth that makes his mind shut down _entirely._ It's almost like having an out-of-body experience.

Sam didn't think it was possible to kiss someone with an air of self-deprecation about yourself, but Scott sure as hell is doing it now. With _fervor,_  even-- soft, apologetic noises hitching in his throat as his stubble grazes against Sam's face, as his fingers smooth paths down the edges of Sam's jaw. He comes at Sam with such single-minded, humble determination that it feels almost impossible to say no.

 _Is this what that lady felt like?_  Sam feels himself wondering, fuzzily. Out of curiosity more than anything, Sam presses his thumbs down into the hollows where the Ant-Man's upper and lower arm meet, curling into the dips of surprisingly hard muscle and stroking over the tendon in his inner arm. Scott shudders immediately-- lets out this nervous, shaky laugh, like he's terrified and awed all at the same time, and kisses him again.

The wet, quiet noise of his own mouth opening for Scott's earnest tongue, however, is the thing that finally snaps Sam out of it.

He jerks backwards and holds the other man away at arm's length, breathing hard.

"Oops," Scott says. He sounds dazed.

" _What_ ," Sam growls, dangerously.

Scott holds his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "We just broke out of _prison_ ," he explains. There's a dusting of pink over his cheekbones that is _very_ distracting. "With _Captain Freakin' America,_ dude, it was _awesome_. So--"

"So you _kissed_ me?!" Sam hisses.

"It was in the name of science, okay!" Scott shoots back defensively, drawing a line across his throat and making eyes at the cabin door next to them in a desperate attempt to get the other to _lower his volume_. "When else is a guy like me gonna have a big team-up of this caliber happen again? Geez--"

" _I_ _n the name of science_ ," Sam echoes, flatly, as his brain chews on that for a moment. "You-- you kissed me to, what-- compare?"

The other shrugs, but from the way that guilty, crooked grin makes a comeback, Sam's hit it right on the money. He almost shakes the bullshit right out of him, swear to _god._

"You kissed me so you could compare one 'awesome' event kiss to another?!" Sam practically shrills.

"Will you-- not so loud?" Scott says. "That wasn't the only thing, okay? You and I have actually _worked_ as a team, too. Wanted to see if it'd be better."

Sam opens his mouth, but he has no words. None at all. And he very much does _not_ ask if it was better, dammit, because _he doesn't care if Scott likes him more than some really, really,_ really _hot chick_.

A _whoosh_ noise startles them both into looking at the cargo bay door.

"Hey," Clint starts, as he takes a step in, "Cap says--"

And then _he_ takes the _scene_ in, face wiping blank. He looks at Sam's face first-- then Scott's-- then Sam's hands gripped around Scott's elbows-- and quirks an eyebrow. Nothing else-- no other facial tics-- just the one eyebrow.

Scott's gaze rolls awkwardly sideways and focuses on a very interesting corner of the wall behind Clint. Sam, on the other hand, is so mortified he can't look away.

"Cap said we can switch seats periodically if you wanted," Clint says, and even though his face is completely impassive he sounds like he's choking on his own air. "But I'll tell him you're doing alright back here."

"Thanks," Scott says, cheerfully, because _he can't keep his mouth shut_.

Clint makes a strangled noise like he's trying not to pee himself and shuts the door.

" _Great,_ " Sam mutters. He lets go of Scott's arms in favor of cradling his burning face into his hands.

"If it's any consolation," Scott tries, "That awkward moment was way better, too."

"Tic-tac," Sam says.

"Yeah?"

"You are so full of shit."

"Yep," Scott says, sounding resigned. "Yeah. Guess that's a thing, now."

 

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry. lmao
> 
> P.S. come follow my [fandom twitter](http://twitter.com/r4mathorne) if you want. mostly i'm just drunk and yelling about x-men but sometimes i will post original stuff
> 
> P.P.S. RAMATHORNE WAS HERE LUCY'S A LOOOOOSER (jk i love you thank you for putting up with me screaming about ant-man at four in the morning in both of our time zones)


End file.
